


She Stroked His Mind and Soothed His Fears

by Bonnie_Bug



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, the pov was meant to be vague but I feel like it's kind of obvious whoops, vague regeneration is vague all that matters is he's alone poor guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonnie_Bug/pseuds/Bonnie_Bug
Summary: She sighed contentedly, settling back as they spun lazily through all of time and space. They were everywhere and everywhen at once right now, safe and sound in the Vortex.
The Doctor has a nightmare; luckily, she'll always be there to help.





	

 

She sighed contentedly, settling back as they spun lazily through all of time and space. They were everywhere and every _when_ at once right now, safe and sound in the Vortex; the grinding _vwooorrrp, vwooorrrp_ of eons-old time engines was the only sound, aside from the various buzzings, beepings, and purrings that always formed a constant white noise in the background, comforting and familiar and warm.

She stretched out, reaching beyond her physical boundaries to psychically brush against the minds of those within the little big box. At this moment in time, there was a worrying lack of life within the mysterious ship. Only one other mind was in here, the mind of the impossibly old man from beyond time, and she frowned. It wasn’t good for him to be alone so often; she knows.

She retreated her grand reach, shrinking down until she touched only his mind. She often did this, focusing her attentions on the mysterious man, though he never knew she did. Encircling his mind, she breezed behind it, barely whispering by, lingering just enough to sense his thoughts. Calm, relaxed, soft; he was asleep. Bless him.

She smiled happily. The man rarely slept; not a deep, proper sleep like this was, anyway. There were far too many days where the only sleep he gathered was from forced unconsciousness, or utter exhaustion, or a worrying combination of both. She knew he didn’t need nearly as much sleep as his human companions did, being very decidedly _un_ human, but need it he did, and would it honestly kill him to catch a decent night’s (using the term as loosely as possible) rest every now and then?  
  
A sharp twang against her mind sparked her out of her musings, and she remembered once again why the man rarely let himself drift off into slumber. She frowned worriedly, drifting down and in once more, delving a little deeper to see just what he was dreaming of.  
  
Pain. Destruction. Fire. So, so much fire, burning and scorching and suffocating and melting and killing and dying and it was all his fault, his fault, his fault and his family was there and they were crying and they were screaming at him why would you do this how could you do this why didn’t you stop this madness _this is all my fault my fault I should have died with them why didn’t I die with them–_  
  
She jumped back with a jolt, his fear and hurt and self-hatred screaming through her mind. Her heart broke for him as he tossed and turned, his face as twisted and pained as his dreams. She settled down around him, enveloping his mind with her touch. She gently eased away his fears, brushing aside the images of his burning home like scraps of fabric, or unwanted lint. Plucking a few memories of her own, she filled his head with visions of stars and galaxies, beautiful and shining and bright, of adventures in far-off places and times, of happiness and love. He slowly relaxed under her psychic touch, troubled dreams forgotten as he slipped back into peaceful slumber.  
  
She sighed, brushing softly against his mind, unwilling to leave his side tonight. He had so many nightmares, too many to be healthy. She tried to help him as often as she could, but there were many nights– far, far too many nights– where she could do nothing but sit on the sidelines as he was tormented by his inner demons. Still, she dutifully cleared his mind for him as often as she was able, rubbing away the memory of his nightmares as thoroughly as she could. He never really remembered his nightmares the next day when she did so, but, deep in the back of his mind, he could sense she had helped somehow, and would always smile at her and stroke her softly in thanks when he did, whispered words of gratitude drifting past her ears.  
  
She loved it when he talked to her, even if it made others look at him funny (well, funnier than normal). She knew he didn’t mind, knew he knew they could never understand their connection in a million, billion years. Oh, there were a select few who would _try_ to understand, try to puzzle it out, and a few who came very, very close to scratching the surface of their relationship, but no one in the history of time would ever truly be able to comprehend their bond. _She_ would know.  
  
The man was now stirring below her, slowly waking up, so, with a final whispery touch, she retreated from his mind, flying back into her own. She could still sense him, blearily blinking around and rubbing at his eyes, and she echoed his smile as he realized she had visited him. In no time at all he was up and dressed in that ridiculously wonderful outfit of his, racing into the control room at the speed of light, mood lighter and happier than in a very long time.  
  
“Come on, old girl,” he grinned at her. “Let’s go on an adventure.” She beamed in response, whirring and humming excitedly, and sent the two of them blasting off through the Vortex once again.


End file.
